


The Four Weeks Of Halloween

by robindrake93



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Bonfires, Dancing, Fighting Kink, M/M, Off-Screen Suicide Attempt, Oral Sex, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, corn maze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-20 13:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20675867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robindrake93/pseuds/robindrake93
Summary: Ronan and Kavinsky meet once every week of October.





	1. Bonfire

**Author's Note:**

> I got the prompt list from [horrificmemes](https://horrificmemes.tumblr.com/post/179192220316/things-to-do-in-october-starters) and rather than do all of them for one ship, I divided them into eight different ships because there are 45 prompts on the list and not all of them seem like they would fit the rovinsky ship. These turned out to be less Halloween and more just the two of them being together during the month of October but I hope that you enjoy them anyway. The explicit warning (and some of the other tags) are for future chapters.

  
Ronan drove towards the billowing cloud of smoke that blotted out the setting sun. The pedal was nearly to the floor, needle on the speedometer climbing towards triple digits. The asphalt disappeared beneath the car, miles eaten up in seconds. Ronan didn’t even see the forest and fields rush past him. He didn’t watch the road, kept his gaze on the black smoke and impulsively turned down a dirt road. The BMW bounced beneath him, dirt flew up, and he nearly crashed into a tree. 

Ronan’s heart raced but it wasn’t fear from the almost-crash. His hands were steady on the wheel. In the passenger seat beside him, Ronan’s phone chirped and chirped with incoming messages. He hoped that there would be pictures of the handsome boy with the hollow eyes and the dark spikey hair. He hoped that there would be fire in the background. If there was a fire in Henrietta, there was a 90% chance that Kavinsky had started it. 

Ronan wanted to get there before the cops did. 

He felt the bass in his feet before he saw the actual flames. Ronan parked the BMW beside a white Mitsubishi, car fitting perfectly into the spot like it was meant to be there. He left the keys in the car, ignored his phone, and got out. The music was wordless, drums that mimicked a heartbeat, and hooked up to every stereo in the lot so that it felt like it was coming from the shadowed trees. Everyone wore an animal mask, held bottles in their hands. They danced and skipped in circles around the massive bonfire. 

Ronan looked for his beast. 

He found a beer before he found Kavinsky. Ronan took a deep pull of it, ready to be where the others were at. It would take a few more before he was relaxed enough to let go that much. Ronan stayed by the cooler and downed several more beers in quick succession. His blood thrummed. The beast, he knew, would find him whether Ronan looked or not. Ronan wanted to be found. He wanted to see who would find who first. He suspected that Kavinsky already knew he was there. 

A fox danced nearly within his reach. He brought the smell of foreign cologne and cigarettes. The fox twisted away and Ronan saw the glitter of a gold earring. Facing away from Ronan, the fox became a raven. 

Ronan wanted that mask. He followed the fox, tried to be stealthy in his stalking, tried to blend in. Ronan approached, danced away before he was caught, approached again. He recognized those breakable collarbones, those lips upturned in a smirk. He knew those protruding, gripable hips. They moved closer to the fire. Ronan saw the fox’s black eyes reflect the firelight. With nowhere to go but into the flame, Ronan had the fox cornered. He swooped in, caught the fox by those sweet hips and pulled him into his embrace. “Gotcha.” 

The fox grinned up at Ronan. Kavinsky’s arms came around his neck, his lithe body pressed against Ronan’s. The heat that radiated off him made the fire feel cold. He slipped off the raven mask and pulled it down over Ronan’s eyes. Instant anonymity. “Did you?” Kavinsky’s lips brushed against his, bold in their disguises. His tongue slid past Ronan’s lips and tasted bitter. Not that anyone paid any attention to the still figures beside the fire. 

Too late, Ronan realized they were dancing and that Kavinsky had slipped him something. His mouth tingled and a distant part of him was annoyed. But mostly, Ronan focused on the boyfox twisting and writhing in his arms. On the coolness of the forest at his back and the heat of the fire at his front. They circled the fire. Ronan heard his heart beating loud, wondered if Kavinsky could hear it too. 

“I hear you, ravenboy,” Kavinsky laughed. He slipped out of Ronan’s hands like water and disappeared to the other side of the fire. 

Ronan followed, tripped over other partiers. His ears were sharp, they tuned in to the laughing fox and Ronan circled. Desire curled in his belly at the sight of the boyfox’s back, of Kavinsky’s bare skin. Ronan wanted to nest beneath his skin. He caught Kavinsky and crowed his victory. 

Kavinsky laughed, rubbed against him. 

Ronan had the distinct feeling that he was the one who had been captured.

Kavinsky held a bottle of tequila. “Drink,” pressed it to Ronan’s lips and tipped it back. 

Ronan held the alcohol in his mouth without swallowing. He tipped Kavinsky’s chin up and kissed him. It was a messy transfer of fluids as most of it wound up running down their chins, down Kavinsky’s thin chest. Ronan sucked on Kavinsky’s tongue until he could only taste himself in Kavinsky’s mouth. When he pulled back, he was lightheaded. 

The fox’s black eyes followed the movement. Kavinsky licked his lips. The bottle fell from his hand and spilled into the dirt. He backed away from Ronan, hips a teasing sway. He swayed with his back to the fire and then with his back to Ronan. _Come get me_, his shoulder blades said. 

Desire hit Ronan like a punch. He shook with the want that curled through him like poison. His hands reached for Kavinsky, felt soft - so soft, always so smooth - skin beneath his fingertips. Ronan spun Kavinsky around, pulled him close, and sank his talons into that smooth back. He dragged his nails down hard shoulder blades and thought again, _I’ve got you_. And then he thought, _mine_. 

Kavinsky shuddered in his grasp. His teeth sank into Ronan’s neck. They were needle sharp. 

Ronan pulled away. His fingers felt wet but he didn’t look. Couldn’t take his eyes off the fox’s red, red lips. He smiled, danced away on his toes. A challenge, a game, a fight, a courtship. It was all the same to them. With the masks on, indifference fell away. Ronan looked at Kavinsky and _wanted_ him. 

Kavinsky rolled his shoulders as he did when readying for a fight. He tilted his head and his face was hidden in shadows, only an outline of a fox’s ears visible. Of the two of them, Kavinsky was the most direct. His heart on his sleeve, his desires out in the open. Challenge accepted. He moved towards Ronan on bare feet and lashed out, claws poised to scratch. 

Ronan blocked. He kicked out at Kavinsky’s ankle.

Kavinsky dodged. He went again for Ronan, managed to brush his nails across Ronan’s cheek in a sharp caress. His chin lifted with triumph. 

Ronan grabbed his wrist, yanked him so hard that Kavinsky stumbled. He made as though they were going to share a kiss but bit Kavinsky’s lip instead. 

The fox yelped. 

The raven laughed. 

Kavinsky twisted his arm out of Ronan’s grip but didn’t retreat. He advanced, pushed Ronan against the hood of a car. Kavinsky climbed on top of him, ran his hands over every inch of skin. His fingers smoothed down Ronan’s bare back, across his naked chest. Every touch left a brand on Ronan’s soul. Those black eyes _saw_ him and striped Ronan to nothing. He pulled at Ronan, urged him closer until their hearts were separated only by skin and beat as one. He nosed at Ronan’s neck, licked the bite there. The ears of his mask dug into Ronan’s throat. 

Ronan wanted to break Kavinsky’s spine with his bare hands. He wanted to take Kavinsky apart to study him and then eat the pieces one by one. Ronan smoothed the pads of his fingers over the welts on Kavinsky’s back. He prayed that the marks would stay for the rest of their lives. He turned his face towards Kavinsky’s and nudged him with the beak of the mask, urging. 

Kavinsky shifted and their lips met. Kavinsky kissed Ronan like he wanted to devour him. He moved against him, shivering, mewling into Ronan’s mouth.

Ronan couldn’t keep his hands off of Kavinsky. His weakness. He ran the nails of one hand up and down the welts on Kavinsky’s back and slid the other hand down the back of Kavinsky’s jeans to cup his ass. 

Kavinsky’s hand came up to press nails into the bite on Ronan’s neck. His mewl turned to a growl. Suddenly, Kavinsky was gone. He danced away from Ronan as though Ronan hadn’t even shown up to the party, moving the same way he’d been before. Except this time was different. The welts on his back glowed a painful red in the firelight. 

Ronan watched him for a moment, marveling. He touched the pain on the side of his neck. The raven boy smiled and slid off the hood of the car to go get his fox boy.

Marked. 

A fight.

A mating.


	2. Corn Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan agrees to go on a "family outing" and winds up passed out in the dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was extremely tired when I wrote this but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

  
The thing about Henrietta was that there were a lot of farms. A lot of farms meant a lot of cornfields. Around Halloween, that meant an abundance of corn mazes. Ronan hadn’t been to a corn maze since he was a small child, before Matthew got too scared to go anymore. They had always freaked Ronan out too but instead of crying, Ronan just got angry. Not much had changed since then in regards to Ronan’s expression of feelings. 

Ronan didn’t like corn mazes.

Gansey wanted to go to a fucking corn maze. 

Ronan - who broke many, many rules that were actually important to Gansey - was unable to say no to Gansey on this. He considered it his penance. But that didn’t mean he was going to pretend to enjoy himself. 

Thankfully, Gansey didn’t ask that Ronan have a good time. Only that Ronan show up. Since Gansey was driving, all Ronan actually had to do was get out of bed and drag his ass to the Pig. As Gansey had pointed out multiple times. He seemed genuinely concerned that Ronan would back out. Which, to be fair, was a very Ronan thing to do. 

However, when the evening came for the big corn maze event, Ronan dragged himself out of bed and down to the car. He was at the twenty-four hour mark of consciousness and still had his shoes on. So that was something he didn’t have to do. Ronan got into the back seat, put his head in Noah’s lap, and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t sleep but that was okay. If he closed his eyes, Ronan could pretend like he was getting much-needed rest. 

Adam looked into the back, saw Ronan stretched out, and took the passenger seat. He didn’t say anything about the situation as it was well-known that Ronan would put his head on the most convenient lap. 

Gansey, of course, took the driver's seat. Because no one was allowed to drive the Pig except for him. And sometimes Adam; but that was only because Adam _fixed_ the Pig. “Everyone ready for an exciting Halloween activity?” He turned the key in the ignition and the Pig sputtered to life. 

Ronan hoped the car broke down before they got there. He wisely kept that to himself.

Noah giggled like he knew a secret.

Ronan took a moment to glare up at him then closed his eyes again. He ignored the chatter going on in the car until the conversation turned to something of interest. 

They pulled into the dirt lot that served as a parking lot for the corn maze. Gansey put the car into park when suddenly he said “Oh no. Oh no. Not him.” He sounded like a mother whose daughter’s boyfriend just pulled up. 

“I didn’t think he went to corn mazes.” Adam sounded as irritated as Gansey. Not many people actually irritated Adam so that was telling. 

“He wants to have a good time too, guys,” Noah chimed in from the back seat. He sounded downright cheerful, which was suspicious. 

Ronan sat up. He spotted the white Mitsubishi immediately. His heart skipped a beat. In a row beside the Mitsubishi was a line of candy-colored cars that the Dream Pack owned. Ronan very firmly told himself that he was here on a family event. These things were to be respected. Ronan was doing penance to Gansey for the bonfire last week. The bruise on his neck twinged. He was not going to even think about ...anyone who owned a white Mitsubishi. Family business. 

“Maybe we should find another corn maze,” Adam was saying. 

“I’m not going to let him chase us away,” Gansey said through gritted teeth. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The only person in the world who was able to grind Gansey’s gears and get him to show real emotion was Kavinsky. 

Damn it. 

Gansey twisted around to face the backseat. “Ronan?” There were a lot of things in the way Gansey said his name. 

“It’s fine.” Ronan shrugged in usual Ronan fashion. He was being good. Being good for Gansey. Because Gansey was disappointed that Ronan had gotten a ticket for drunk driving because he’d been at Kavinsky’s party and the alcohol hadn’t stopped flowing. Even though Ronan left after the sun had come up, he’d still been shitfaced. Normally Ronan didn’t drive under the influence. He just crashed wherever. However, the last few hours of that party were a bit foggy. “I’ll just stay in the car.”

“What if Ronan stays in the car?” Adam said at the same time.

Gansey pushed his glasses up. “No, I don’t want blood in my car.”

Ronan didn’t think it was blood Gansey had to worry about. He didn’t understand how Gansey didn’t know they were fucking. It had to be willful ignorance on Gansey’s part. Gansey was so far in denial that he didn’t realize the hickey on Ronan’s neck was, well, a hickey. He’d been appalled by Kavinsky’s ‘_dirty way of fighting_.’

“Gross,” Noah whispered. 

“It’s a big maze. We’re sure to hear their group. We'll just avoid them.” Gansey took the key out of the ignition. That was his signal that he’d made up his mind. The other three followed his lead. Gansey paid for their tickets and flirted with the woman working the ticket stand. 

Ronan pretended like he wasn’t on the hunt for Kavinsky. Like his eyes weren’t searching, like his ears weren’t tuned in. He stood beside his pack with his arms wrapped around himself, shoulders hunched. Exhaustion seeped from his pores. His eyes hurt and Ronan found himself blinking for long seconds in the hope of some relief. 

Noah slid an arm around his waist. He felt insubstantial. He walked with Ronan into the corn maze, body cool against Ronan’s side. They were behind Gansey and Adam. “You should find some sleep,” Noah said under his breath. 

Ronan grunted. How was he going to find sleep while walking around a corn maze? If he gave Noah too much of his weight, they’d both end up on the ground. 

Ahead of them, Gansey and Adam kept up a low stream of talk. They talked about the quality of the maze, the weather, fall classes. Nonsense things. Their voices were soothing. However, there was an undercurrent of tension among them. They were waiting to run into Kavinsky’s pack. The sooner they got the encounter out of the way, the sooner they could enjoy themselves. 

Ronan didn’t pay attention to where they were going. He was tired. But it still took him awhile to realize that Gansey and Adam’s voices were gone. “Did we get lost?” Ronan asked Noah.

Except Noah wasn’t there either. 

Ronan didn’t remember him leaving. He stood alone in the middle of a cornfield. The corn rustled but that could have been the wind. He thought that maybe he heard the pack calling for him but he wasn’t sure which pack it was or where they were. Ronan swayed with the stalks of corn. He couldn’t even retrace his steps because he hadn’t been paying attention. All of a sudden, Ronan experienced a swooping sensation. His energy levels dropped. Ronan half fell, half lowered himself to the ground. The ground wasn’t as hard packed near the stalks so he rolled onto it. His eyelids were too heavy to keep open.

A hand ran over Ronan’s head. Nails lightly scratched his scalp. A familiar voice sang, “My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of a bottle is my only friend, I think I’ll slit my wrists again, and I’m gone gone gone, gone.”

“Morbid,” Ronan croaked. The sky was different, darker. He was still laying in the dirt. 

Kavinsky stopped petting him. “You’re finally awake, princess.”

Ronan sat up. His head spun. It wasn’t the effect of a drink or drug; just being bad at taking care of himself. 

The Dream Pack lounged along the path, talking and smoking and messing around on their phones. They stole glances at Ronan but otherwise ignored him. Like always. 

Ronan ignored them too. He turned back to Kavinsky. Even with how cold it was out, Kavinsky was only wearing a loose tank top. “You seen Gansey and them?”

Kavinsky looked distinctly unamused. He held out a hand and Swan put a lit cigarette in it. “Nope.” He took a drag off the cigarette. “Looks like daddy left you.” The smoke blew directly into Ronan’s face. 

Ronan got to his feet. He brushed the dirt off his ass. “Gotta find them.” He started walking away. 

Kavinsky was on his feet in a second. “Hey. Hey! Where are you going?”

Ronan ignored him. He came to a crossroads and picked one at random. He couldn’t hear his pack but he heard Kavinsky behind him. 

“Why do they matter?” Kavinsky tried again. “They ditched you in a corn maze.” 

Ronan twisted his head around to look at him. “I’m doing penance.” He kept going. How big was the corn maze? He knew that one of them was four square miles but was that the one they were at? 

Kavinsky laughed so hard he dropped the cigarette. 

Ronan doubled back and stomped it into the dirt. He didn’t want to set the place on fire. At least not today. Not with his friends in the maze. If they were still here. They wouldn’t leave him. 

Kavinsky caught up to him, walked beside Ronan with their sleeves brushing. “Penance? Is that Dick’s idea? Seems like punishing his dogs for getting some is up his alley.” 

Ronan responded how he did best; with an icy silence. 

At this point in their….partnership….Kavinsky was more than immune to Ronan’s freeze outs. He slid his hand into Ronan’s hand. His fingers brushed the raw skin of Ronan’s scarred wrist. The scars were still pink and puckered. “Sweetheart, you’re so pathetic.” 

Ronan yanked his hand away. They couldn’t. They weren’t. “I am not.” He wished he’d just stayed silent. Kavinsky liked to play dumb but he had the sharpest tongue, the sharpest mind. At least when it came to Ronan. Ronan wished he knew why Kavinsky had taken to him so strongly. “They’re my family, whether you like it or not. I care about them. And what they think of me.” 

Kavinsky cocked his head as he looked into Ronan’s eyes. His black eyes were dead, emotionless. His expression fell into the easy smile that was the mask he put on for other people. He didn’t say anything. 

The silence between them was far from comfortable. Ronan didn’t know what to say to ease the tension. He wasn’t going to apologize and he wasn’t going to take it back. He didn’t want to care about the three boys but he did. They were his. He was theirs. Ronan needed to get his priorities straight. Kavinsky was...an experience. A drug that Ronan was addicted to. He needed fucking rehab to get over the boy next to him. 

They walked for twenty minutes like this before Kavinsky said “Wandering around like this is stupid. Do you want to get to your car?” 

Ronan just looked at him. “Don’t fuck with me, K.” Although it was probably too late for that if Kavinsky knew the way to the parking lot. 

Kavinsky held up his palms. He took the next left and in that second, Ronan saw his back. The scratches that were shiny lines on his pale skin. 

Ronan’s heart did a strange fluttery thing. Ronan hesitated only for a moment, lured in by his own handiwork on Kavinsky’s skin. His other option of wandering around wasn’t looking so hot anyway. He followed Kavinsky in silence and hoped that Kavinsky would get him where he needed to go. Not that that was usually an issue. 

It took five minutes for Kavinsky to get them back to the beginning of the maze. He stood to the side and gestured to the entrance. 

“How?” The relief Ronan felt was tangible. He could see the Pig from where he stood. 

Kavinsky smirked. He tapped his temple. “Photographic memory. They’ve got a map posted by the ticket booth.” 

Several things slotted into place for Ronan. He nodded. Didn’t say thank you or goodbye, just made a beeline for the Pig. Gansey never locked the damn thing so Ronan would be able to slip into it and take a nap on the backseat. He stopped when he heard Kavinsky following him. “What?”

Kavinsky shrugged. 

“No.” Ronan shook his head. “You don’t get to go anywhere near his car.” Ronan took a few steps away and didn’t hear footsteps on the gravel behind him. He opened the car door and got in. When he turned to close the door, there was Kavinsky. “Goddamnit.” 

Kavinsky closed the door for him. He leaned against the open window and looked in at Ronan. His eyes searched Ronan’s face. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You look like shit.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Gee thanks, _sweetheart_.”

Someone suddenly yelled “Is that Kavinsky?!”

Followed by another voice yelling “My car!” 

Kavinsky and Ronan both looked over at Ronan’s pack. Kavinsky scowled. He leaned into the car and pecked Ronan’s cheek. His other hand pressed into Ronan’s bruise. “If I survive, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he sauntered away. 

Gansey practically threw himself into the window ten seconds later. “Where were you? What did he do to my car?”

Ronan looked past Gansey to glare at Noah. “Noah fucking ditched me and I passed out in the dirt.” 

Noah had the decency to look sort of ashamed of himself. He climbed into the backseat with Adam. 

“What were you doing with him?” Gansey asked as he slid into the drivers seat. 

“_Nothing_.” Ronan tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He came on this stupid trip to make it up to Gansey for last week. Ronan put his face in his hands, suddenly tired. “Nothing,” he repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Kavinsky sings is [Bullet by Hollywood Undead](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lP077RitNAc). I heard it and immediately thought of him. 
> 
> Please comment!


	3. Rain Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan and Kavinsky go for a walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is mention of a suicide attempt in this chapter but there's nothing explicit.

  
Despite Kavinsky’s promise of seeing Ronan the next day, it was actually a full week before Ronan saw him again. Kavinsky’s skin had a grayish twinge to it and his eyes looked more hollow than usual. The Dream Pack surrounded him and looked more like guard dogs than usual. No one got close to Kavinsky without getting snapped at and sent away. 

As soon as school was out, Ronan ditched his friends. Curiosity got the better of him and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He walked past the Dream Pack and was pleased that none of them tried to stop him; although Prokopenko did glare at him. He kicked Kavinsky’s sneaker. “You’re alive.”

Kavinsky wore his sunglasses even though the sky was dark with clouds. He was draped over the hood of his Mitsubishi. It looked uncomfortable but Kavinsky appeared boneless and past caring. For once he was actually dressed for the weather in long sleeves. “That’s what they tell me.” 

Ronan didn’t know how to bring up that he thought something really had happened to Kavinsky. Especially since the Dream Pack had been antsy all week. He stared at the boy and wished that Kavinsky just understood that Ronan was worried. Ronan wished he didn’t worry. One of these days, Kavinsky wouldn’t bounce back from whatever self inflicted wound he applied that day. 

With what looked like great effort, Kavinsky pulled up one sleeve. Beneath it was a bandage, crudely taped on. He peeled up a corner to reveal a nasty red cut that looked infected. It started oozing blood as soon as Kavinsky exposed it to air. “We match.”

“Joseph!” Prokopenko was beside Kavinsky in an instant, smoothing the bandage back into place and rolling his sleeve back down. He kept pressure on the cut for a few long moments. 

Ronan wanted to punch something. He was vaguely nauseous. Guilt and shame burned within him. “It’s not like that.” 

Kavinsky pulled down his shades and looked Ronan in the eye. “It is for me.” 

Ronan picked Kavinsky up and threw him over his shoulder. Kavinsky weighed almost nothing. He growled at the Dream Pack, dared them to stop him. 

Prokopenko growled back. Swan’s eyes narrowed. Jiang and Skov jumped to their feet. 

“Down,” Kavinsky said to them. “Proko, down. Jiang, chill.” He wiggled until Ronan put him down. He stayed close enough that his shoulder touched Ronan’s chest. “We’re just going for a little walk. Right, Lynch?”

Ronan nodded. He wasn’t sure that he could fight all of them at once and Kavinsky was prone to switch sides at random. Ronan walked away without Kavinsky, couldn’t bring himself to touch Kavinsky where everyone could see. Again. He kept his eyes down. His teeth ground together but he couldn’t unclench his jaw. 

Kavinsky followed with a hollow laugh and soft spoken reassurances to his pack. He was always more human when they needed him. Kavinsky didn’t try to touch Ronan, although normally he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. It was a thing with him. Kavinsky liked to touch people. 

As they left the school parking lot, the sky opened up in a light drizzle. It was a warm rain. 

Kavinsky shivered. 

Ronan’s blood boiled. He didn’t feel the cold even though he only wore the school uniform. They walked along the side of the road, no destination in mind. Just away from the hovering Dream Pack and the judging eyes of Ronan’s pack. 

Once they left the school behind, Kavinsky looked at Ronan. “Got something to say, Lynch?”

Did he? Ronan shook his head. He wasn’t very good with words. Preferred to use his fists and his glare. He was better with actions. But what action would work in this situation? 

“I don’t really like being cut. So I won’t do that again.” Kavinsky said it in a deadpan tone as though they were talking about the weather. Raindrops gathered in his hair and glittered like a crown of tears. 

Ronan veered off the road and into the forest. He didn’t want to go too far. Just wanted to get out of sight of anyone who happened to be driving by. Finally he asked, “your back?”

Kavinsky picked his way through the brush carefully. “I liked that.” He didn’t say it with his usual snark. “You get any sleep?”

Ronan shrugged. He slept after the corn maze but hadn’t slept much once Kavinsky went off the grid. Not that he was going to admit that. He looked over his shoulder to judge the distance from the road then stopped. They were alone in the rain and trees. The rain came down heavier, blanketing the normal forest sounds. It was quiet here, calm. The trees slept, unlike in Cabeswater. 

Kavinsky studied Ronan, his sharp eyes taking in detail. He always looked into Ronan, always peeled back the layers to expose what was underneath. It was a talent he used without effort. Kavinsky shivered again. He wrapped his arms around himself and pressed against Ronan’s chest. 

Ronan wrapped his arms around Kavinsky on reflex. He nosed Kavinsky’s hair, breathed in the scent of his skin. He didn’t smell quite like the usual pharmaceutical, sweat, cigarette, alcoholic cocktail. The Dream Pack must have convinced him to shower before school. “You lied.”

Kavinsky brought his arms around Ronan, squeezed his ribs. “I didn’t mean to.” He hid his face in Ronan’s neck. His breath was a hot puff against Ronan’s rain-cooled skin. 

“Don’t do it again.” Ronan didn’t know if he was talking about the suicide attempt or the lying. He closed his eyes against the heavier rain. 

“Okay.” That was as good as Ronan was going to get. Kavinsky stayed miraculously still for about five minutes before he began to squirm. “This is gay.”

Ronan sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your pack.” And Ronan would need to go back to his pack. 

They walked side by side, close enough that the backs of their hands touched sometimes. Every touch made Ronan’s stomach flip. 

“Hey, I’m having the pack over for a horror movie marathon next week. Halloween, ya know?” Kavinsky waved at his pack as they came into view. 

Ronan nodded. He didn’t make any promises. Gansey might have plans for them on Halloween. But Ronan was already planning on going. They parted in the parking lot without a goodbye. 

Gansey looked annoyed as Ronan got into the BMW parked next to the Pig. “What was that about?”

“He owed me,” Ronan answered. He turned his stereo up so that he could pretend he didn’t hear Gansey ask ‘_owe you what_?’


	4. Horror Movie Marathon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan and Kavinsky don't actually watch the movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sexually explicit chapter.

  
“Ronan Lynch, I forbid you from going.” Gansey crossed his arms and put his foot down. Literally. His expression was firm disappointment. There was a light flush to his cheeks as he grounded Ronan. 

Ronan’s eyes narrowed. His lip lifted in a sneer. He curled his hands into fists and only narrowly avoided hitting something. Or someone. “You don’t get to fucking ground me, Gansey. You aren’t my owner.” 

Adam sat in the middle of the Henrietta model. He looked deeply uncomfortable, glancing between the two of them. His pupils were blown wide and his expression was one of watching his parents fight. He flinched and curled into himself as Ronan’s voice got louder. 

Gansey looked like he’d been hit. “No,” he agreed. “I’m not your owner.” There was a long pause in which everyone in the room heard the silent _but I am_ that Gansey didn’t vocalize. He rubbed his temples. “Ronan, I know you’re going to go see him and I really don’t approve.” No need to name who _him_ was. “He’s bad for you.”

Ronan kept his expression pissed. It wasn’t like he didn’t know this already. It wasn’t like they didn’t fight about it every time Ronan so much as looked in Kavinsky’s direction. “I don’t care.”

Gansey threw his arms up. “Well _someone_ has to care about you, Ronan!” 

Ronan almost spilled his guts right there. He almost said the things that he didn’t let himself think about. The way K looked at him, the way K took care of him, how K fit perfectly in his arms. All the little things - the quiet moments - where Kavinsky, who wore his heart on his sleeve, showed Ronan exactly what he thought of him. Ronan’s phone chirped. He was being summoned and Ronan couldn’t resist the pull of his summoner. Ronan left Monmouth without looking back. 

He ran down the stairs and across the dirty bottom floor. There was still a stain on the floor from when blood poured from his wrists. 

“Ronan!” Gansey’s voice followed him down. “Ronan! I just want -” 

Ronan was out the door before he heard whatever Gansey was going to try to tie him up with this time. Gansey was good with words. Ronan threw himself into the BMW and peeled out of the parking lot. He was running away and it pissed him off. Everything pissed him off. Why did he have to choose? Why couldn’t Gansey just let Ronan breathe? 

Being with Kavinsky was liberating and terrifying. Kavinsky was a wedge in their relationship, something that tore Ronan and Gansey apart. It affected the entire group - Ronan thought of Adam silent and still on the floor, hoping not to be noticed - in a bad way. Ronan should quit him. He should just stop going to see him. Stop with the races and the drinking and the sex. Stop spending the night with Kavinsky and waking up to see those black eyes looking at him like every time was the last time Kavinsky would get to lay eyes on Ronan. They weren’t dating - never - but they needed to break up. Ronan was tearing apart their family and he’d already experienced something like that before. This was preventable. 

Even if God forgave Ronan for his sins, Gansey might not. 

By the time Ronan got to the plastic mansion Kavinsky lived in, he’d decided to cut ties. He parked the BMW on the curb and walked across the grass to the front door. It was unlocked, as per usual. It seemed like a bad habit for a drug dealer to keep his front door unlocked but Kavinsky liked to court death. Ronan walked into the mansion and peeked into the kitchen. He knew this place well, had spent many a night here getting drunk and fucked. 

Jiang stood in the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. The lights were off except for the microwave. He saw Ronan and his expression twisted. “Oh fuck!” Jiang set the bottle down and edged out of the kitchen. “Let me tell him you’re here.” The next moment he was gone into the depths of the house. 

Ronan helped himself to the whiskey that Jiang left. He shouldn’t but Kavinsky always had such good alcohol. It had to be foreign because Ronan couldn’t find it anywhere else. It tasted minty going down. Ronan heard Kavinsky’s footsteps before he made it to the kitchen. 

“Not your usual drink of choice,” Kavinsky noted. 

“I have to go,” Ronan replied. He turned to face Kavinsky. 

Kavinsky leaned against the archway that led into the kitchen. He wore his usual tank top but this time with a jacket that hung around his elbows and left his shoulders deliciously bare. Ronan couldn’t see if he still wore a bandage on his wrist. The gold chain around his neck was a new one, the links fine and delicate instead of the usual gaudy thing he wore. “You just got here., Lynch. Just gonna drink my alcohol and leave without saying hello?” 

Ronan nodded. “I can’t be here.” 

Kavinsky’s eyes narrowed. He made a point of giving Ronan a once over. “What’s wrong, princess? Third cut you off when you come over here?” 

Ronan was not fucking Gansey. No matter how many times he told Kavinsky, it was the one thing that K never believed. He made to set the bottle down before he hurled it at Kavinsky then changed his mind. The bottle went flying across the room.

Kavinsky barely moved enough to avoid being hit directly in the head. The bottle shattered against the wall beside his head and glass flew everywhere. Some of it embedded in his skin. Kavinsky didn’t flinch. He must have been on something strong to not react to that. “I hate it when people are jealous. I share, don’t I?” He moved closer. The island was between them. 

Ronan growled. He couldn’t put his finger on it - never had been able to account for how he felt about the Dream Pack - but the Dream Pack was different than his pack. “My _friends_,” Ronan empathized, “don’t want to see me throw my life away on you.” 

Kavinsky put a hand over his heart. “You know, when you do bother to talk to me, you’re such a dick.” Despite the dramatic display, his tone was dead. He meant it. 

Ronan told himself he didn’t care. The truth was, he was sort of sick of everyone expressing disappointment in him. No matter what he did, he just couldn’t do anything right. Even this low life, loser drug dealing Jersey slut was disappointed in him. Ronan growled again. He reached across the island, grabbed Kavinsky by the hair, and slammed his face into the countertop. 

Kavinsky yelped. His nose crunched. He was across the counter in a heartbeat, fist flying. 

Ronan took the punch directly to his eye. His head rung. He ignored it and yanked Kavinsky off the counter by the grip he still had in his hair. 

Kavinsky kneed Ronan in the gut. Blood poured from his nose. The jacket was gone. 

The whiskey churned in Ronan’s stomach, threatened to come back up. He swallowed. He punched Kavinsky in the face, popped his knuckles on the bone, and his fist slid in the blood. 

Kavinsky yelped again as Ronan’s fist scraped his broken nose. He punched Ronan in the stomach again. 

Ronan couldn’t hold the whiskey down this time. He threw up on the floor, winced as it burned going up worse than it’d burned going down. Ronan wiped his mouth on the back of his hand but all that did was smear blood on his face. 

Kavinsky stared at him, not even winded. He had to be high as fuck right now. “Fucking gross, Lynch.” 

“You’re the one who punched me in the stomach,” Ronan said between breaths. He grabbed a dish rag and threw it onto the mess he’d made. 

Kavinsky rolled his eyes. He put his hands on his hips. “You good?” 

Ronan thought about it for a moment, then nodded. It was hard to be angry after breaking someone’s nose and throwing up on their floor. “Your nose okay?” 

Kavinsky rolled his eyes again. “It’s not like this is the first time you’ve broken my nose.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen, led the way to the bathroom. 

The truth was, Ronan was feeling much better. He padded after Kavinsky and into the large bathroom. He flicked the light on. 

Kavinsky hissed and winced at the light. He used tweezers to pick the glass out of his face - it wasn’t that bad - and a washcloth to wipe away the worst of the blood. “Gonna fucking feel that later,” he muttered. He set the bloody cloth down and took a deep breath. Then he popped his nose back into place. “Mother fucker!” 

Ronan washed his hands. He checked his eye in the mirror and wasn’t surprised to find it already blackening and swelling. A quick look through the cabinets revealed mouthwash. It was mint flavored but Ronan had no choice. He swished it around his mouth then spit it out into the sink. From the corner of his eye, he watched Kavinsky. Sometimes he thought these fights were over but then K would restart them. Ronan wasn’t the only one who liked to blow off steam. 

Kavinsky dabbed at the blood around his nose again, carefully. While he did, Ronan got a good look at his wrist. It had scabbed over but wasn’t a scar yet. And it would scar, Ronan could tell. Kavinsky had meant business when he cut his wrist open. When Kavinsky was done cleaning up, he moved past Ronan and flicked the light off. “Let’s go downstairs.” Kavinsky's home theatre was in the basement. 

A movie was already playing. The Dream Pack ignored the theatre seats there and were piled on bean bag chairs. Beer and snacks covered every surface. A huge collection of horror and pornographic DVDs sat in a corner. Ronan walked down the stairs and flopped into a seat a row behind the Dream Pack.. “No big party this year?” 

Even though there was clearly a spot for Kavinsky among the Dream Pack, K plopped down beside Ronan. “I’m saving it for the Fourth of July.” He lifted the armrest between them and ran a hand along Ronan’s thigh. 

“Sometimes we like to hang out on our own, Lynch,” Skov added. He alternated between shoveling popcorn into his mouth and handing a single piece to Swan. 

Prokopenko got up. He always had more of a problem with Ronan than the others. 

“Proko, where are you going, baby?” Kavinsky called. His hand was burning a path up Ronan’s thigh to his crotch. 

Prokopenko looked at Ronan then Kavinsky. His feelings were written on his face. “Gotta piss.”

“Get me a line while you’re up,” Kavinsky said without taking his eyes or hand off Ronan. 

“Me too,” Swan chimed in. 

Prokopenko left with a grunt. 

“You wanna do a line with me?” Kavinsky offered, as he always did. He swung a leg over Ronan’s body to straddle his lap. 

“No,” Ronan replied as he always did. His hands found Kavinsky’s hips as they always did. 

Jiang got up and handed Ronan a beer. “Don’t let Proko get your panties in a twist. He just doesn’t know how to share.” He sat in the seat beside them. 

Ronan drank the beer. He shrugged. Prokopenko’s thing for Kavinsky didn’t bother him. Ronan and Kavinsky weren’t a couple. He glanced up at Kavinsky. “Am I gonna get to actually watch a movie tonight?” 

Jiang snorted. 

Kavinsky’s grin grew wider. “Maybe.” 

Well, it wasn’t like Ronan came because he wanted to watch movies. He was the only person he knew who didn’t watch movies or tv shows. He didn’t need the fodder for his dreams. Ronan took another drink of beer. If they let him - and they would not only let him, but encourage it - he would drink all night. Ronan already told Gansey not to expect him home until tomorrow. 

Someone on the screen screamed but Kavinsky didn’t turn back around to watch. He kept his eyes on Ronan’s face; as though there was nowhere else that he wanted to see. Probably admiring his handiwork. “Can I blow you?” 

“Right this second?” Ronan hedged. It wasn’t like the Dream Pack cared - something that sort of still blew Ronan’s mind if he thought about it - and it wasn’t like Ronan hadn’t fucked at least two of them besides Kavinsky. Not that he actually wanted to fuck them but they had no boundaries. And it hadn’t happened since Ronan told them he was only interested in Kavinsky. So. Yeah. They were okay with it. Even Prokopenko was okay with it as long as he had a body for himself. 

“I don’t want you getting whiskey dick on me later.”

“I’m drinking beer,” Ronan replied. He didn’t mention that the whiskey he did drink just came right back up. He hesitated, then tipped his face up and kissed Kavinsky. His stomach flipped. 

Prokopenko came back then. He tossed a baggie at Kavinsky. He handed another one to Swan then pulled Jiang away from them. He pulled Jiang down to the bean bags, pushed him down, then sat down on Jiang’s lap. Just like that, everything was fine. 

“Thanks, love,” Kavinsky grinned. He untwisted the tie on it. “Lemme do a line off your leg.” He hopped off of Ronan. 

“You just want to get me out of my pants,” Ronan accused. He stood up and unbuckled his belt. He slid his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Sometimes his boldness with Kavinsky surprised even him. 

Kavinsky drank in the sight of him. “Oh sweetheart, you know it.” He pushed Ronan back down with a hand to his abdomen. Kavinsky kneeled between Ronan’s legs. He ran a hand up Ronan’s thigh. Then he poured out his drugs. The white powder was nudged into a straight line on Ronan’s thigh. “Don’t move, Ro.” 

Ronan didn’t move a muscle. He watched Kavinsky. Gansey would be appalled. So would Adam. Everything about this night would appall them. Ronan didn’t want to think of them. He swallowed. Fuck, he was getting hard.

Kavinsky smiled. “I said don’t move,” he teased. He knew Ronan wouldn’t move. They’d done this before except once Ronan moved and spilled the coke all over the sheets and that had led to a fight and two broken noses. Kavinsky snorted the line directly off Ronan’s thigh. He wiped the powder off his nose then licked that up too. His eyes were entirely black. “Good boy.” 

Ronan flushed. He carefully avoided kissing Kavinsky’s mouth, just in case there was any lingering coke. Ronan didn’t like getting high. His poison of choice came with hangovers. He was traditional. 

“Let me blow you,” Kavinsky whispered. His hand curled around Ronan’s cock, got him to full hardness in a few strokes. 

Ronan moaned against Kavinsky’s jaw. He couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no. “Take this off first.” Ronan tugged at Kavinsky’s bloodied shirt. He waited till K let go of his cock then pulled the shirt over K’s head. He ran his hand through Kavinsky’s fluffed up hair, tweaked the gold earring. He loved that piercing. 

Kavinsky wiggled out of his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear, which wasn’t a surprise. He licked Ronan’s thigh over where the line of coke had been. In true Kavinsky fashion, he just went for it after that. Kavinsky swallowed Ronan’s cock down to the root. 

Ronan sucked in a breath. He should be used to that but no.

And then Kavinsky pulled off. There were tears in his eyes. “I can’t do it like that.” He gently touched his nose, winced. 

Never let it be said that Ronan wasn’t a problem solver when he wanted to be. He pushed Kavinsky back by the shoulders so that he was on his haunches. Ronan stood up and held Kavinsky’s head carefully in both hands. 

Kavinsky tipped his head back and opened his mouth, waiting. He made a pretty picture. 

Ronan took a second to guide his cock into that pretty pink mouth then replaced his hand on the side of Kavinsky’s head. His heart thundered. He felt Kavinsky swallow around him. “Good?” 

Kavinsky made a positive noise. 

In a sharp contrast to the earlier violence between them, Ronan tried to be gentle. Mostly because he didn’t want to be that much of a dick. But also because Kavinsky would bite his dick off if he was in real pain. He moved Kavinsky’s head towards his cock and manhandled him into a position that he liked. The first slide of wet mouth against him was bliss. Ronan kept his thrusts shallow so that he didn’t fuck up K’s nose more but the grip he had on Kavinsky’s face to keep him in place was anything but gentle. 

Kavinsky looked up at him with beautiful hooded black eyes while Ronan used him. He didn’t protest a bit against being used. Just let his jaw hang slack while Ronan fucked into his mouth. He looked blissed out. His cheeks were pink, chest moving rapidly, but he was so good. 

Ronan told him so. 

Kavinsky liked positive attention, even when he pretended not to care. With the praise, his eyes filled with warmth. His tongue pressed against the underside of Ronan’s cock. 

A few more glorious thrusts into that perfect mouth and Ronan came. He dug his nails into Kavinsky’s flesh. Ronan stood still for a moment before pulling out. He let himself fall backwards onto the theatre chair and brought Kavinsky with him, dragged him by the head. The kiss they shared tasted bitter-salt. “Your turn,” Ronan said. 

Kavinsky climbed into Ronan’s lap. He kissed him two more times like he couldn’t get enough then kneeled. His cock left a wet smear on Ronan’s cheek. 

It was full and beautiful and Ronan’s mouth watered at the sight. He took the head in his mouth and sucked. That was his favorite part, just sucking on the head of Kavinsky’s cock. 

Kavinsky let out a broken moan above him. “Don’t tease, Ro.”

Obediently Ronan opened his mouth more, relaxed his throat. He pressed his tongue against the underside of Kavinsky’s cock like K had done for him, swirled his tongue around the head one more time.

Kavinsky stared down at Ronan. His face edged closer to red than pink. “Ronan,” he murmured. “Use teeth.”

Ronan got that command sometimes, when Kavinsky’s nerves weren’t working right. When he needed pain to feel because pleasure was too gentle. Ronan made an affirmative noise. He adjusted his jaw, let his teeth graze the length of Kavinsky’s cock. 

Kavinsky wasn’t careful with Ronan. He made use of a lack of gag reflex and fucked in deep. 

Ronan brought both arms up and held Kavinsky close. He traced the scars on Kavinsky’s back and posessively thought; _mine_. Ronan was content to let K use him tonight. It was only fair. And, well, sucking cock was actually very hot. The good thing about Kavinsky was that he always gave Ronan something to confess every week. Ronan closed his jaws just a fraction of an inch.

Kavinsky gripped the back of the seat and tipped his head back to let out a loud moan. “Fucking fuck!” He squeezed the hinge of Ronan’s jaw to get him to open up. Then he grasped his cock, stroked a few times, and came on Ronan’s throat. 

Cum dropped down Ronan’s throat to his chest. It was warm against his skin and Ronan was torn between being grossed out and turned on even more. He would smell like Kavinsky for days now, even after a shower. Ronan was less upset with that then maybe he should have been.

Kavinsky ducked down and lapped up his cum. He kissed Ronan, then shoved his tongue between Ronan’s lips. He tasted like salt and chemicals. 

Ronan nipped Kavinsky’s tongue. 

“God, they’re so hot,” Jiang’s voice cut through the bubble world that was just Ronan and Kavinsky. 

Ronan flipped him off without looking.

“My ass is yours whenever you want it, Lynch!” Jiang laughed. 

Kavinsky pulled back, smirked down at Ronan. He licked up more of his cum then kissed Ronan again. That was one way to get cleaned up. He bit Ronan’s lip none too gently then sucked on it. Kavinsky pressed his forehead to Ronan’s. “Suck me off one more time?” 

Ronan threaded a hand through the hair at the back of his head. “Just one more time?”

Kavinsky winced a little. “I couldn’t wait for you to get here so I started the party without you.” K wasn’t the only one good at reading between the lines: Kavinsky thought Ronan wasn’t going to show. 

“I’m here.”

“Yeah,” Kavinsky breathed, “you are.”

“Gay!” Skov yelled. 

Ronan tensed. Guilt and shame hit him at the same time. Why was he doing this? Didn’t he have some sort of plan when he came here? Wasn’t this the exact opposite of what he decided to do?

Kavinsky jerked his head back. “Shut the fuck up, Skov!” He looked pissed. 

Skov laughed but he did shut up. He pulled Swan onto his lap. They were still sharing popcorn. 

Kavinsky turned his attention back to Ronan. He squeezed Ronan’s jaw again. “I want my cock in your mouth.” 

Ronan hesitated. He shouldn’t. His new family would hate him. His old family already hated him; except Matthew but Matthew didn’t hate anyone. But, well, Ronan already sucked that cock once tonight. It wasn’t like he would be more damned if he did it a second time. There was probably a ten minute rule for these things anyway. He met Kavinsky’s gaze and got lost in those black eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart. Please?” The thing about K was that he was a devil but he could be oh so sweet and tempting. He would lead Ronan right into hell. 

And Ronan wanted to go. When he looked into those eyes, when those lips said his name, Ronan would gladly walk into hellfire. Ronan took Kavinsky’s cock in his mouth for the second time that night. He scraped his teeth over the head and then all the way down the shaft. 

Kavinsky arched his back and moaned. His cock throbbed against the back of Ronan’s throat. He pulled out slow and slid back in with the same maddening slowness a few times. Those black eyes watched Ronan watch him. Kavinsky picked up the pace gradually. Until he was thrusting into Ronan’s mouth and hitting the back of Ronan’s throat with his cock. He panted and shook as he neared another orgasm. 

Ronan’s jaw hurt and he knew the back of his throat would be raw soon. His hands found Kavinsky’s ass and he squeezed both cheeks, kneaded them in his hands. He was hard again but too focused on sucking K off to do anything about it. Maybe later they could fuck and Ronan would slide into that tight heat. 

Kavinsky closed his eyes and came without a sound, spilling his cum down Ronan’s throat. His cock pulsed as he came and his body stayed taut as a wire. 

Ronan swallowed every drop of cum. It settled hot in his stomach. He smoothed his hands down the backs of Kavinsky’s thighs. 

Kavinsky pulled away, cock sliding free from Ronan’s mouth. He didn’t go far, though. He manhandled Ronan into a reclining position then laid on top of him with his head on Ronan’s chest. His heart beat like hummingbird wings against Ronan’s skin. 

Ronan put an arm around Kavinsky. He was glad to be on the bottom where it was warmer. “I don’t want to sleep tonight,” he said without looking at the movie screen. 

Kavinsky sighed. “I’m not sleeping either. Just resting. My legs feel like jello.” He tilted his head enough to kiss Ronan’s nipple then settled down again. “You got a thing against horror movies?”

“Fucking hate them,” Ronan answered. 

That got a chuckle out of Kavinsky. “Then why’d you show?”

Ronan closed his eyes. “Not for the movies, K.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this series! Of course, I've got more rovinsky fics in the works. Hopefully I'll be uploading more of the Halloween prompt fics too (if I actually write them). Thanks for reading, everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Please review!


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